


Looking For a Breath of Life

by wolfblood



Category: Snow White and the Huntsman (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, POV Alternating, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfblood/pseuds/wolfblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beautiful things can come from the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Brightness in the Shadows

Tracking her was easy, even in this forest, where things were not always as they seemed. Eric paused, kneeling so he could get a better look at the ground and the boot prints leading deeper into the gnarled trees. She’d made it this far, at least, but he didn’t think he would find her alive. This forest had a way of taking root deep inside a person, creeping its way into that part of them that felt fear so it could feed on it, making nightmares real enough to kill. There was little doubt in his mind he would find a body soon, yet a part of him clung to hope the girl yet lived. A life for a life, after all. The Queen would not give him what he wanted if he presented her with a corpse.

Behind him, Eric could hear the snap of fallen branches as the Queen’s men followed, ignoring his command for them to stay where they’d been. To an outsider, it seemed a small matter, but when hunting, one had to be careful how much noise was made. Eric made so little it seemed he made none as he moved, while the men trailing him seemed incapable of doing the same. Not that it mattered if she was already dead. If she still lived though, he only hoped she was too frightened to take notice of their approach. Perhaps she would hear the sounds as only the forest, with its dark terrors, moving in the shadows.

When he finally located her, hidden inside the raised root of one of the trees, Eric couldn’t tell if she breathed or not, just that she was curled in on herself, as if in an attempt to make as small a target as possible for the eyes she knew hunted her. It was only when he came closer, sneaking his way toward her, that he saw her hand move. A flash of white against the darkness of her dress and the shadows. Before he could think too much about what he was doing, that this was a living, breathing girl he would be turning over to the Queen, Eric grabbed her arm, pulling her out into the open. 

Immediately she fought him, struggling to free herself. Eric was stronger, dragging her away from the tree and toward the Queen’s men who were still some distance away. The blonde one, Finn he thought he’d heard the others call him, smiled in a way that unsettled Eric when the man’s eyes fell onto the girl, seeming to drink in the sight of her the way a man did a whore. For a fraction of a second Eric’s grasp loosened around her arm, but it was enough. She twisted away from him, and when he swore beneath his breath, turning to chase her down if necessary, he saw she’d managed to steal the knife he kept on his belt. It was a foolish thing for him to have let happen.

He had not expected for her to be so young, nor so beautiful. Even with mud on her face, and tangles in her hair, it was evident that she was a great beauty. Though, looking at her, Eric should have known she would be. The Queen would not have placed such high value on a plain girl, nor one that had seen many years of life. It was always the fairest maidens who disappeared, everyone knew that. Now, with her standing before him, his knife held all wrong, it was impossible for Eric to forget that he was supposed to hand over this girl to the Queen’s men so she could die. What other outcome was there for her?

“Who are you? Why do they want you?” he asked, angling his body so he could see the men as they continued their approach. 

“You should know if you’re hunting me,” the girl said, eyes darting toward the Queen’s men as she took a step backward, the knife shaking slightly in her hand. She was brave enough to have stolen it from him, but frightened still. Like a scared rabbit being cornered. Eric matched her step, watching her carefully in case she decided to run. 

“All I know is that the Queen wants you,” he told her, purposefully keeping his voice as soothing as possible in an effort to put her at ease. It worked enough that she hadn’t seen it coming when he moved forward quickly, relieving her of the knife and pressing her against him once it was sheathed at his belt, her back against his chest, as he turned to face the men. They froze when they saw Eric had his axe pressed against the girl’s throat. 

Several of them began speaking at once, barking orders that were probably to drop the weapon and release her, but Eric heard none of them. The girl had turned her head in an attempt to look at him, despite the edge of the blade. The moment she’d begun to move, all Eric’s attention had gone to her, his hand moving the axe so it wouldn’t bite into her skin inflicting damage, while still being close enough to remain a threat. Though his eyes remained locked on the men, he could see her at the edge of his vision, a pale face framed by dark hair.

“Please, help me,” she whispered, and the fear making her voice tremble tore through him. “There are others who would pay if you would see me safely through this forest. Please, do not do this.” There was nothing he could do but ignore her.  
  
“I want what was promised to me,” Eric shouted at Finn, hating how fraught with emotion his words were. 

“Hand over the girl, and you shall have it,” the man said, using the same calm tone Eric had earlier with the girl. It would not work so easily for Finn as it had for him. 

“No,” Eric shook his head at the unacceptable offer. Without the girl, what would he have to ensure Sara’s return to life? “No, you will give me her first, and then I will give you what _you_ want.”

“Please, don’t be stupid. They’ll kill us both,” the girl said softly, the ring of truth hanging in the air. What guarantees did Eric have the Queen hadn’t been lying? How did he know she wouldn’t simply have him killed the moment this girl was safely on her way back to the castle? A nagging part of him whispered that he deserved death, if he gave her to them.

“Why is she so valuable to you?” Eric demanded, unable to keep his frustration and anger out of his voice. He didn’t want to be doing this, didn’t want to be trading this girl’s life for the life of his Sara. Yet, at the same time, he wanted it so badly it hurt. The very thought of feeling Sara’s touch against him made him willing to do anything. It was the memory of her voice, whispering to him at night when his dreams were plagued by blood and battle, that brought tears to his eyes. “Why will you not just give me what was promised?”

“Because it is not within my power to do so,” Finn said, with a subtle shake of his head that seemed more sign for the men beside him than anything to do with the conversation. He was smart enough to realize he was about to be attacked. 

The loss of Sara was heavy in his heart the moment he decided to lower the axe. Eric took comfort in knowing this wouldn’t have been what his wife would have wanted, for him to condemn this young girl to death so that she could be brought back from the grave. If such a thing were even possible, Sara would have urged him not to, he knew this. She would have told him to let her rest in peace, to move on with his life, and to live it. Yet, what was life without her, but an emptiness he felt deep inside himself each day? 

“Run,” Eric told the girl, and she needed no other urging before she was gone, leaving him facing three angry men. As he drew a larger knife than the one the girl had stolen from him, he raised his axe. If he was to die this day, at least he could do so knowing he’d done one good thing before he went. That he’d done something Sara would have been proud of. 

No stranger to fighting, Eric was quicker than they were, blocking and dodging their attacks until his axe sunk deep into the stomach of one of the men. With a yank, he pulled it free, blood spraying his face as the man dropped to his knees, holding the fatal wound, essentially holding his intestines in. Eric had no time to think of the agony he’d just inflicted, or the life he took, though it would likely take hours for the man to die. Instead, he turned to defend himself. A blade nicked his arm, slicing through his shirt and skin. Though it stung, he knew it was superficial, nothing that would kill him, nor would it impair his ability to fight. 

The second man caught the knife in his throat, blade ripping through the artery as Eric shoved the body away. Finn circled him, a growing stain of blood on his shirt from where he’d been caught by Eric’s axe. It was only a moment’s distraction, the sound of something in the tree above him, dark and ominous. In the second it took for him to glance up involuntarily, Finn struck. The movement brought Eric’s attention back too late, his axe coming up only after the sword slit into his chest, deeper than the cut on his arm. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Eric swung his axe, catching the sword and forcing it to the ground.

In an instant he was on Finn, his blade sinking into the side of the man’s stomach, just shy of the spot he’d intended. Swinging his hand up, Eric caught the hilt of the knife against Finn’s temple, hard enough that his opponent staggered, straight into a patch of mushrooms. Instantly they reacted, the air filling with what Eric knew would enhance the nightmares of the forest. Pulling a bit of cloth he kept tied around his neck up to cover his mouth and nose, Eric took one last look at the reeling Finn before turning and heading in the direction he'd seen the girl go. He knew better than most the horrors this forest held for the unprepared. He'd saved her life once by letting her free, he would not leave her to die now. It wasn't like the Queen would let him live after this, anyway, not if he returned home. 

With the sun still high in the sky, Eric knew he had enough plenty of time to track her. The fight hadn’t lasted terribly long, but he doubted the girl would be leisurely walking through the forest. No, she’d be running, as fast as she could. Bruised from multiple hits, with his wounds stinging from the sweat running into them, he wasn’t looking forward to finding her, and the hours he would spend leading her to safety. It helped to concentrate merely on tracking, paying attention to the details that would lead him to her: boot prints in the mud, a smear of blood on a spatter of sharp rocks that told him she’d fallen, and a torn scrap of her dress tangled in the thorny clutches of a bramble. It was only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will follow the basic storyline found in Snow White and the Huntsman, or it will follow it as closely as my memory will allow. I've seen the movie once and don't have the best track record with remembering details. Because of this, I'm choosing to change some things, hence the Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence. So, if you notice things not being exactly as you remember, or taking a slightly different turn as they did in the movie, it's because I'm trying to make the story my own. That would be impossible to do, even if I could remember exact dialogue, if I didn't stray at all from what we were given in the movie. Hopefully, you'll like it regardless! I'm also using the name Eric because I found it several places in relation to the movie, though he was never actually given a name in it, that I can recall.
> 
> Of course, I own none of the characters, settings and ideas being borrowed from Snow White and the Huntsman.


	2. Fear Not the Dark Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful things can come from the dark.

Unused to such physical exertion, Snow White felt like she was dying. For seven years she’d been locked in a tower, only able to see a small rectangle of the sky through the barred window. That was all she knew of being outside now, save for memories of when she’d been younger. She’d been active as a child, yes, but so much time spent in such a small space had rendered her relatively weak. Truthfully, she was surprised she’d made it as far as she had. It was the screaming in her lungs that had forced her to stop, relief flooding through her as she sank onto a patch of dirt, pressing a shaking hand against her forehead as she tried to stop the world from spinning.

Hunger gnawed at her, for she hadn’t eaten since she’d left the castle. Snow guessed it had been nearly two days since she’d escaped. Perhaps longer. The dust from the mushrooms she’d fallen into had confused her, left her disoriented and lost beyond hope. She couldn’t even say for certain that it was dust she had inhaled. It didn’t matter, though. Just like it didn’t matter if she was hungry, or that her throat hurt from lack of water. All that mattered was putting as much distance as possible between her and the men who hunted her. Even if she died from overexertion, or thirst, or starvation, it would be a better fate to her than going back to that cage.

That was, of course, assuming she would even survive once she’d been taken back to the Queen. A shiver ran through Snow as she considered what Finn might do to her before handing her over to his sister. The weight of his hand on her in her memories felt real enough that her eyes flew open, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never been touched by a man, but she had seen, been forced to watch once. No relief came to her now, because she could feel eyes watching her. The shadows seemed to grow, inching forward until they were almost touching the hem of her dress. Panic flooded Snow, causing her to rise to her feet with the intention of fleeing. 

Only, now that she’d sat, she could no longer remember which way she’d come from. All the tangled, burnt looking trees seemed the same. That only further fueled the panic, and without really thinking about it, Snow took off, stumbling over an uneven patch of rocks. The point of one bit into her palm, another ripping into her arm as she fell, leaving the stones red when she found her feet again. Hastily, she wiped her hand, then her arm against her dress, though it did little to stop the bleeding. There was nothing she could do about it, except ignore the pain, and the feel of the blood trickling down her skin, the way tears always felt on her cheeks. 

Snow ran without thought, without real purpose except to escape the pressure inside her chest, that feeling of hopelessness weighing down on her. She thought of the horse, the beautiful white horse she owed her life to, who’d become trapped in the dark mire. It was then she should have realized no hope existed of her surviving this. What did she know of surviving in a place like this? Still, the memory of the horse made her slow, take a cautious look at her surroundings so she might make out any immediate threats. The only problem lay in her not knowing what to consider dangerous. Wasn’t it all a threat in the end? 

She’d seen the winged creatures on the trees, felt the breath of unseen beings on her face as she had cowered on the ground after falling on the mushrooms. Danger was everywhere, she understood this. Even if these terrors from the Dark Forest didn’t kill her, it was only a matter of time before Snow wore herself out from trying to flee, like she knew the horse eventually would or already had, until her body refused to work in her favor. And then, what would become of her? Would she fall to the ground, too weak to continue? Or would she struggle on, slowly? Either way, the thought filled Snow with despair. She did not want to die, not like this. 

It wasn’t until she was trapped by the branches that Snow even realized she’d wandered so close to one of the trees. Then, they were surrounding her, the twisted shapes slithering suddenly as black snakes flicked their tongues at her. A scream rose in her throat as she tried to find a way to get as far away from the creatures as possible. Even when she tried to duck beneath them, steeling herself for the prick of fangs, there was no way, just snakes. She’d never even been afraid of them before, though she’d only seen one once, in the garden, and it had been small, harmless and green. But these were different. These snakes seemed made of shadows and evil. 

Then, there was a flash of brightness, of light catching on the metal of a blade and the snakes in front of Snow were torn in half, falling harmlessly to the ground in a pile of broken sticks. The Huntsman stood before her, a large knife in his hand as he watched her. He looked even fiercer now, with this fear still residing inside her, a wild man come to finish her off. There were spots of blood on his face, more of it soaking his shirt on the chest and the cuffs, though his hands were clean of it. The world around Snow swam, her heart feeling like it was going to give up at any moment from working so hard. 

Falling to her knees, Snow gulped in breaths of air so quickly she felt dizzy. This was what it felt like to drown in panic, she was certain of it. All the stress of the escape, the fear of being at the mercy of this man descended on her, bringing tears that fell onto her cheeks and would not stop. One of her hands rose to clutch the fabric just above her heart, and she prayed that it would not stop beating. The sound of herself crying shattered the silence surrounding her and the Huntsman, a desperate, broken sound that seemed perfectly at home in this desolate place. She did not hear him when he approached, did not realize he knelt before her until his hands were on her face, gently forcing her to look at him. 

“You are safe now,” he told her, his blue eyes startlingly bright in his dirty face. They seemed so sincere in that moment that Snow wanted to believe him, remembering how he had released her, told her to run. It had been so easy to forget that kindness in the face of so much panic flooding her mind, with him standing there with a wicked looking blade in his hand.

When she did not calm, her tears still falling, and her chest heaving with the force of her breath, the Huntsman grabbed Snow’s hand, holding it tightly in his own. It was strong and warm, an anchor she held onto in order to keep herself from being swept away completely. For seven years she hadn’t felt another’s presence like this, had not heard anyone utter such words to her. _You are safe now_. How desperately she wanted to believe it, that nothing more would harm her. Because her heart seemed to be skipping beats, giving up on her, and if she did not stop the waves of fear consuming her, she did not think she would make it through the day.

“The forest feeds off your weakness,” the Huntsman said softly, glancing to his left. Snow followed his gaze only to see those creatures taking form in the trees, their wings stretching out, clawed feet digging into the wood. “Control your fear and it will have nothing to take from you.”

Such simple logic that seemed absolutely lost on Snow. She had no idea _how_ to control her fear, not in this place. Back in her cell, in the tower, she’d learned to hide her fear. When Finn would come and watch her, his hands clutching at the bars, she would watch him in return, tucking her fear of him away, deep inside her where she knew he could not see it. On those rare occasions the Queen came, that beautiful face staring in at her, Snow had stared defiantly back. But she supposed it was easy to be brave with the metal separating them. In a way, perhaps it had made her feel safe, like they could not touch her. 

“Just breathe, not so deeply and not so fast,” he whispered to her, his free hand coming up to brush her hair back from her face in a gesture so reminiscent of the way her mother used to that Snow made a pained sound deep in her throat. “We are safe. The men will not be following us this night.”

Closing her eyes, Snow focused on the feel of his hand against hers, his rough callused skin. So close, she could feel the warmth coming from his body now that the temperature seemed to be dropping. Was that the forest, feeding off her fear? She pretended she was back in that tower, grasping at the edges of her terror, pushing it down into that place where it couldn’t be seen. It was easier with the Huntsman holding her hand, because she took strength from him, pulling herself up, out of the crushing waves of panic. Snow took comfort in the weight of him, just at the edges of her consciousness, like gravity keeping her grounded now that she was wading out of the sea of her fear.

It still was there, lurking in the corners of her mind, but Snow breathed easier, her heartbeat evening out. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her so closely she felt herself blush at the concern on his face. She could not remember the last time anyone had looked at her like that, not since her father’s death, as if her life mattered to them, as if she were more than just a thing to be locked away and forgotten about until some desire brought the haunting sound of feet to her prison door. Gratitude filled her, so much that she did know what to do. And when he released her hand, she wanted nothing more than to grab it back.

“There, see, you feel better, do you not?” he asked her and Snow found she did not have to words to express herself. She simply watched him as he stood, his eyes sweeping the landscape, judging it to see if indeed they were safe. When it seemed he was satisfied with what he saw, he looked back at her. “We may rest a bit, gain your strength back, but we should not be here when night falls.”

“No, we should not wait,” Snow told him, shaking her head. Though she felt weak, she rose to her feet, trying to ignore the way her legs trembled beneath her. She saw the hesitation on his face, as if he were deciding whether or not she would make it five steps before collapsing. The words tumbled out of her quickly, “Please, I do not want to stay here another moment. I am strong enough, I promise you.”  
  
It was a promise Snow knew she should not have made. How could she possibly be certain she had the strength to go on? Fear still clung to her, more weakly than it had before, but it remained, stirring to life when she thought she saw shadows moving out of the corner of her eye. Her muscles protested, even when she moved only slightly, and her head had long since begun to hurt. But the Huntsman nodded at her once, then turned and began walking, glancing back to be sure she truly intended to follow. Of course she would. He was her only hope now, she understood that without question, and wondered if he knew it also.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos, bookmark and comment! They are very appreciated. I hope you continue to like it. :) 
> 
> Of course, I own none of the characters, settings and ideas being borrowed from Snow White and the Huntsman.


	3. Courage Has Many Faces

A sharp, biting wind brought the scent of death and decay to Eric as they walked. He'd never been this far West into the forest before, wasn't even sure what to expect, but they were headed in a direction that meant the smell was behind them. This seemed assurance enough in his mind that they were going the right way, and he tried not to dwell too much on his not actually knowing. Instead, he snuck glances at the girl, noting the way she shivered slightly as the wind pressed the hem of her dress, which he'd cut some time ago to aid in her walking more easily, against the back of her legs. It was the way of the forest. If it could not scare a person into submission, it turned the elements against them.

The ground deceived travellers into believing it was mire free, until their feet began to sink and the truth was revealed. Eric walked carefully, the girl always just a step behind him, making sure that a part of him was always aware of the feel of the ground beneath his boots. If he was quick enough, he could tell the difference when his leading foot hit the mire. This was a lesson he'd learned years before, when he'd been traveling with James, a boy he'd known since childhood. Neither of them had noticed the change, and it was Eric who had stepped into it. Had he been alone, he would have died, that he knew for certain. But James had been strong, strong enough to help free him. After that, they both were more careful, and they learned quickly to walk slow enough to _feel_.

It wasn't just the ground, though. Even when one was careful enough, or lucky enough, to avoid those dangers, the forest brought other things, like the cold winds that felt like ice. The moment he'd felt its touch, Eric had lifted the cloth to cover his mouth and nose, making the girl stop so he could fashion her a similar mask by cutting what remained of her dress just a little shorter. They'd left the rest of it behind them, tangled in the branches of a reaching bush that had caught her as she'd walked by. She'd been confused when he'd come toward her again, distrustful even, until he'd explained that the wind brought the mushrooms' poison with it, faint but enough to make a person lose their wits if they were to inhale too deeply.

The girl had stilled then, allowing him to cut the fabric. Eric had tried not to notice the color of her eyes as she'd watched him, carefully, as if to be sure he wasn't trying to trick her. It was impossible not to notice. The irises were a blue-grey with a subtle hint of golden brown surrounding the pupils so that they seemed almost green. Framed as they were, by long lashes, dark like her hair, they were beautiful. Mostly, they reminded Eric of the sea before the Queen had come, back when things had shone instead of being covered by a dismal grey that seemed made of the ashes of the kingdom. The way the girl's eyes shone, seeming to see straight into his soul.

He was glad to come behind her, where she could not watch him, knotting the cloth securely in place. That piercing stare had not held the eyes of a child, not the eyes of a girl untouched by the horrors of the world because of youth. But then, in this world, who could really claim that they had escaped being touched by the Queen's evil? Eric considered perhaps she was older than he'd first thought. Not that it mattered, of course. What mattered was getting her to safety, and then perhaps he could find a new life somewhere far enough away from the Queen and her men that he would not have to worry each day if it would be his last. So they continued, carefully making their way through the withered trees.

When the wind stopped hours later, Eric did as well, taking a seat on a boulder so he could rest, pulling the cloth from his face. The girl stood watching him for a moment before doing the same, then came to sit beside him. They sat in silence, the same silence that had settled over them when she'd tried to ask him questions and he'd ignored them, asking his own instead of answering.  _Who are you? Why does the Queen want you so badly?_ After that, she'd kept her words to herself, and he'd done the same. He found it curious that she did not even complain. More than once he'd noticed a look of pain on her face, probably her feet from walking so much, or possibly the jagged cut on her arm. Yet she did not raise her voice to speak of it.

Though it was obvious she struggled, she never asked him to slow, never asked him if they could rest. But then, she had no need to. Eric noticed when her steps slowed and matched her pace so that it would be easier for her. This was no girl used to the rigors of the outdoors, and he suspected she was highborn. No lowborn would have skin so unmarked by the sun's touch. Yet, she seemed to bear her current struggles with a strength he would not have expected from a person of high birth. She was soft, in the way a sapling was before its roots dug deep, before it learned just how high it could grow, towering over everything as it reached for the sun.

What she needed wasn't roots, though. For a tree could not protect itself when the axe came calling, singing for a taste of its sap and wood. No, the trees could do nothing but stay rooted in the ground as they were cut and made to bleed. Eric knew, if she were to survive after he left her, she would need to know how to fight back. This girl would need to learn how to be like the wild animal, cornered with its teeth and claws ready to draw blood, willing to fight to the death in order to live. The knife was in his hand before he realized he'd made the decision, hilt held out to her. She stared at him, not understanding.

"Take it," Eric told her, extending his reach so it was closer to her, easier for her to grab. "I want to show you something."

"Show me what?" she asked, not taking the knife, a frown settling on her face along with a look of apprehension. Eric understood, just like he had before when she'd looked at him like this, that while she might be following him out of need, she did not necessarily trust him.

"How to live," he said, coming to his feet and grabbing her hand, pressing the hilt of the knife into her palm, showing her the correct way to hold it. Then, carefully, because it was the one that had the cut on it, he lifted her other arm in front of her.

"If they get this close to you, you do this to protect yourself. And because you are small," Eric paused, holding the wrist of her hand with the knife firmly, he pulled it toward him, so the tip of the blade hit just beneath his ribcage, "you use their strength against them. You take whatever chance you can, and you put that knife as deep inside of them as it will go, all the way to the hilt. And you watch their eyes, you keep that blade in until you see their souls take leave from their bodies, you understand?"

"I could never do that," she whispered to him, her beautiful eyes wide and staring at him. In that moment, she looked so much like the scared frightened girl he'd had to calm, the one who'd been past the edge of panic when he'd found her. Eric released her, stepping away, wishing that he'd never come. Had he never known, he wouldn't have cared.

"You could, and you will if it should come to that," he told her, knowing that if it truly came to that, she'd likely not survive such an attack. He hated, that with that thought, he'd conjured the image of her, with her blood red against her white skin as she died. But at least she had her claws now. It gave her a better chance than before. Looking at the sky to gauge how long it would be before sunset, and to clear his mind of that picture of her, he said, "Come, we have rested long enough here. God willing, it will not be long before this forest comes to an end." Neither of them spoke as they walked.

When they rounded a hill some time later, a battered bridge came into view, skeletons scattered around it. Immediately Eric paused, abruptly enough that the girl ran into his arm and had to grasp it briefly to keep herself from losing her balance. He barely noticed, rooted to the spot as his eyes took in the sun bleached bones of horses and men. Death resided in this place, unseen but near. A quick look to his right, then left, told him that this was the only way out of the forest. A chasm ran the length of the edge of the trees, too wide for them to jump, and deep. When he cautiously came to the edge, he could not see where its bottom lay. Returning the way they'd come was not an option, but he did not like the looks of this.

"What is this place?" the girl asked, coming to stand beside him. Together they stared at the darkness leading into the earth itself and the bones, so many bones.

"I do not know. A place with little hope," Eric said. He took a step back, touching her arm lightly to get her attention, so she would follow him. "But we must cross or we will die within this forest."

They stepped onto the bridge together, he with his weapons ready should he need them, and her with her hands clasped tightly around the knife she held before her. There was nothing to indicate immediate danger on the bridge, besides the skull of a man they passed, and the spine of a horse. Nothing moved except for them, their footsteps seeming to echo around them on the stone. They reached the other side without incident until something shifted behind them, the sound of rock sliding against rock. Eric spared a look for the girl before turning, axes raised. At the sight of the troll he sighed, not wanting to put his already abused body through this fight. Before he could even move the thing was upon them.

With his first strike, he knew it was useless. The troll was too strong, too big, and Eric was too tired from his previous fight, too exhausted from so much walking that it easily got the best of him knocking him onto his back, so hard it took the air from his lungs and he could not breathe. The sky above him seemed unnaturally bright, all the sounds of the world coming to his ears as if he were underwater, garbled and unrecognizable. Somehow, through the haze of it all, he heard the girl yell and he turned his face toward the sound. It took Eric's mind a moment to process what he was seeing, the troll baring its teeth at her as she fell backwards onto the ground.

But then, she was rising to her feet, facing the troll as if it could not hurt her. Eric felt he must be dreaming this, because the beast did not move, did not attack her like it had him. Instead it stared at her, their faces only a few feet from one another and then it was gone, leaving the girl standing alone, the knife in her hand. All he could think was how stupid she was for facing a troll with nothing but his knife, and how brave it was that she had. Not for the first time, he truly wondered who she was, this girl who ran into the dark forest, yet could not handle the shadows it created. This girl who felt she could not kill a man, yet stood before a troll will but a knife to protect herself. The trouble, Eric found, was that he wanted to know. More than anything, he wanted to know who she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! I couldn't remember if the troll or the village with the scarred women came first, so no idea if this is out of order. Took some liberties with what the bridge went over, as I'm fairly certain it was just a river/creek/etc in the movie.
> 
> Of course, I own none of the characters, settings and ideas being borrowed from Snow White and the Huntsman.


End file.
